


Home

by Sphinxriddle



Series: Fragments of Voss [8]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Lazy Mornings, Morning Cuddles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 03:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21439273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sphinxriddle/pseuds/Sphinxriddle
Summary: Years down the line A warrior of light and her dearest companion and fellow dragoon find time to simply, rest.this is one of their mornings.
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Estinien Wyrmblood
Series: Fragments of Voss [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1513865
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26
Collections: Final Fantasy XIV - Estinien Wyrmblood x WoL Recommendations





	Home

Light filtered in through the frosted window of a small home in Ishgard, falling gently on the faces of two who would much rather it still be dark, still be the common mans hour of rest. One was still deep in the arms of sleep, her chest rising and falling gently, peacefully, the most at ease Estinien Wyrmblood had ever seen his companion in the years he’d known her. A small smile tugged at his face, even as he cursed the lights intrusion. Rest. They’d finally found their rest.

As much as he would have loved to sit there, admiring the way the light danced through her black hair, splayed out across her pillow and his chest, His stomach urged him away. Such a rudeness, hunger was, interrupting such gentle times. And to feed said hungers, he’d have to find a way out of the warm cage of her arms. She was much like a cat really, one who loved warmth, and gentle affection. One might call her clingy, with how she wrapped around him whenever she could, but he wouldn’t dream of doing so. Her warmth was so different than the chill his life was used to, and by the Fury he wouldn’t lose it.

Slowly, gently, he moved her arms from around him. Replacing his warmth with one of her many plush animals. She loved those things, so soft and warm and cute. He hoped they’d be at least a passable stand in for him as he got something to eat. She furrowed her brows as he moved, causing him to pause, holding his breath for a second, afraid he had woken her. Thankfully, it appeared just to be a stirring in her dreams, for soon she drew the plush animal close to her chest, and rolled over still very much asleep. 

He exhaled, relieved. Sitting up fully now, he swung his feet to the cold stone floor. They really needed to invest in a rug. He could feel the heat seeping from his body before his feet even hit the ground. Shivering, he slipped into the slippers Danica had bought him instead of a rug. Moogle shaped, with poms on the back that had fallen off sometime during his use of them. A nameday present she had sworn was practical, and reminded her of him. His smile grew, he turned his head once more to look at her, gently reaching out and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and then finally headed towards their bedroom door. 

The rest of the house was just as cold, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They did live in Ishgard after all. At least for now, he knew Danica was still looking for the perfect place to open an Inn somewhere distant and and gentle a place where people might not visit often or might not know her name. Anonymity was what she sought, something she had lost long ago, to be the faceless but always listening innkeeper.

He lit the stove with a few quick strikes of a match to tinder as his mind continued to wander. Slowly, meandering through every dream and vision and idea that appeared in his mind. He’d go with her when she found that magical place. If she’d let him that is. Every so often his mind would grow dark, moody, and he’d wonder why she even found comfort in him, as much of a broken, tired man he was, had once been. How closed off and cruel to her, especially early on in their relationship. He shook his head, Danica would poke his side if she heard him thinking such things, remind him that he has no say in how she feels about him. That she loved him and the dagger weilding fiends in his mind had could do naught to change that. 

He found one of the few pans they had. He was glad they still managed to have one clean. Both Danica and himself had forgone cleaning dishes the night before, for no reason other than they wished to both be warm and lazy. He laughed a bit to himself, so very different from when they were on the road. Regimented. Up at Dawn. Clean things directly after they were used. Work till Sundown. Sleep. Repeat.The laziness was a breath of fresh air, really. 

Eggs. Check. Four of them. Did they still have any bacon? Or had they forgotten to go shopping the other day. Ah just enough for the two of them, if she woke to the smell. He’d never been a masterful cook but he knew enough not to make something passable with what they had, and passable was all his stomach required. Especially when the siren’s song of a warm bed awaited him not too far away.

The pan sizzled, the smell of bacon slowly filling the room, perhaps even the entire house, and once again Estinien found himself gently smiling. A door shut further in the house, he heard a loud yawn, and slow, languid footsteps. Ah, it had woken her. Perhaps he wouldn’t return to bed after all. Considering, to quote danica, what made it a warm bed and not just a cot was the presence of each other. 

Finally turning the corner, a bleary eyed Voss stood for a moment, blinked, and then continued zombie like towards the other dragoon. She was the picture of exhaustion, long black hair wild and unkempt all about her, one of his shirts, half buttoned and falling off her right shoulder, a grumpy look painted on her beautiful face. Beautiful, she was beautiful. 

Slowly, she wrapped her arms around him, pinning them both to his side, and nuzzling his shoulder with her head. He chuckled, managing to worm his far arm out from her grasp, only to lose it in her hair. 

“DeeDee” He spoke her nickname gently. Like it was a secret name, only for the two of them to hear. Of course that wasn’t the truth. Many called her that, most of her friends did so often! But to him, calling her something so intimate almost exclusively when it was just them, that was special. 

“DeeDee, I need my arms for this. Else we’re looking at a house fire and burnt bacon.” He chided, halfheartedly attempting to pry his other arm free. She grumbled something unintelligible. Holding tighter, harder, like her very life depended on her proximity to him. Ah, she wasn’t fully awake it seemed after all. She had just followed bed down the stairs. He chuckled.

“You’ve two arms.” She managed to spit out intelligibly after a moment, before once again burying her face into his arm, covered by the cascade of hair he had tried so hard to keep as far away from the stove as possible. Back to square one, his free hand pushed back a selection of strands so that one of her eyes, the golden one, peaked out at him. He shook his head, she pouted. 

“Well, if you want to eat burnt bacon then...” He started, turning back towards the stove. The food was in no danger, but it would be if she kept this up. 

“I want to be back in bed. Actual bed not just the furniture.” He smiled. Seemed no amount of plush animal would pass for him. She moved her head a bit, looking at him now with her two sleepy, grumpy eyes. She inhaled, as if she was about to state some grand case that he should forgo food and simply return to bed, but she stopped. Sniffing audibly. “Ok fine. Bacon.”

But yet, she still did not free his arm. At least not fully. Instead, she lifted his captive arm high for a moment, only to slouch herself and plaster herself to his side. Leaving his arm free, but elevated, around her shoulders. She smiled into his side, basking in the warmth of his arm. 

“Problem Solved.” She couldn’t stop herself from giggling at her own brilliance. Figuring out a way to be warm, to be in his arms, and to save the bacon! Genius! “I am the smartest Dragoon.” She stumbled out, after getting herself suitably comfortable. 

“Hmph.” He feigned insult at that, he too was a dragoon after all! Had she forgotten! From the smile he saw peeking out between her messy bangs he doubted as much. Simply that she was tired and speaking with a tired mind. Gently he wound a bit of her hair around his finger, before tilting his head. Thinking back on the times when yes, she had been awake, aware, working. 

“Yes, yes you are. Now go get some plates.” He ordered, only to be met with grumbling. He expected as much, she wasn’t keen on leaving a place once she got comfortable. Removing a hand from her shoulder, he reached up and managed, just barely, to grab two plates with one hand, without either of them falling on the pair. 

And within moments, breakfast was served. She slipped from his side to greedily pick up her plate and fork, stuffing half a strip into her mouth before remembering to say thank you. He shook his head, taking his own plate and heading towards the large couch her father had acquired for them some time before they set up shop in this tiny corner of Ishgard. Another thing they needed to get soon, a proper table for dining. He’d have to write these down later.

She had followed him, plate in hand, and promptly crawled into his lap as soon as he has situated himself upon the couches pale red cushions. Hr chuckled, placing his own plate upon her lap and wrapping his now free hand around her back as she leaned into him. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of all the affection?” He asked, not seriously expecting an answer from her this early in the morning. His own sleepy brain however wished to air it. She shook her head no, almost violently, before grabbing his face and gently kissing his cheek before returning her head to his shoulder. 

“Good. I’m glad.” He replied, relief painting his voice.

And with that, silence fell over the pair. Slowly eating their food, enjoying each others company, and watching the sunlight grow brighter through their few windows as early morning continued its transformation into Midday. Slowly, he watched her fall back into the clutches of sleep. Her hands growing lax upon her plate, thankfully not dropping it before he could whisk it away, her breathing growing regular, and gentle, and her eyes fluttering and staying shut. 

Perhaps she was right, perhaps sleep even now was the place to be. Gently, he pushed their plates to the side, leaving more of a mess for them later of course but later was later. Now was something much more important. Then, he brought her up into his arms, careful, as if not to wake her again.

Returning once more to their small room, and their small bed, and the warmth it provided. Basking in the rest and comfort it gave them when truly it was complete. 

Much later in the day they would wake. They would work among the world. Building, and planning, cleaning, and talking. But for now, all that mattered was their rest. 


End file.
